The Parkway Diner
by MeganQueenOfScots
Summary: James's wedding to Crysta Phillips is imminent, but he's starting to have doubts. What will happen when, during the five days before his wedding, he sees more and more of his ex-girlfriend, Lily Evans?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_Uptown girl  
She's been living in her uptown world  
I bet she never had a back street guy  
I bet her mama never told her why…._

-"Uptown Girl"

People were surprised when Crysta Phillips began talking to me. They were shocked when we started dating. Six months later, when we announced our engagement, they were downright flabbergasted.

Now, the casual observer might think there was something a little odd about that. I'm from an old, pureblood, Wizarding family just like hers, I am pretty intelligent, and have a steady job as an intern at the Auror office. Even the short amount of time we were dating before our engagement was normal; with all the killings recently, people seemed to be rushing into everything. So why, you ask, wouldn't everybody encourage our relationship?

Well, I forgot to mention that our lovely casual observer is legally blind. While I'm at the top of the food chain of society, I don't like to dress or act accordingly. In fact, I've been told that I frequently look like I had a fight with something higher up on the food chain and lost. (This of course is a lie; James Potter _never_ loses fights.) I have also probably had more detentions than anyone else in Hogwarts history, except Sirius Black, who just so happens to be my best mate.

Conversely, Crysta is practically a saint. She was a year behind me in school, and became the Head Girl in her seventh year. I'm not sure if she's ever gotten reprimanded by a teacher, much less a detention. She has confided to me, though, that she laughed just as much at my pranks as anyone else. I find myself quoting Mary Poppins when I think of her: "Practically perfect in every way." Sirius says she's an android, and quotes Star Wars when I talk about her: "These are not the droids you're looking for…."

We had faced down criticism every step of the way. People had told us that we were no good for each other many, many times, and now, a week away from my wedding day….I was starting to believe them. Maybe she really was wrong for me, and I for her.

I'm not usually easy to scare, but that thought was terrifying the piss out of me. I didn't want to go through with the wedding if I knew it wasn't going to work, but I didn't want to break it off if it would have worked. Basically, I had no idea what to do. So, I did what pretty much every bachelor does—I went to see my mum.

I surprised her in the act of making cookies—for my reception, no doubt. I cringed. My mum dusted the flour off her hands to usher me into her house.

"James, you're just in time," she said, pushing a bit of flyaway grey hair out of her face and looking harried. "Harold hasn't been home at all, and I need to get four more batches in the oven today. I meant to ask you, would you prefer eight of each peanut butter and chocolate chip, or—"

"Mum," I cut her off. We were in the kitchen already, and she had pressed a mixing bowl into my hands and was beating eggs as if she hated them. I gently set the bowl on the counter. "Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you…."

No sense in having sixteen batches of cookies and no wedding to eat them at.

Something in my expression or my tone had gotten through to her. She put down the whisk, pulled out chairs for each of us, and gave me her full attention.

"It's about the wedding," I said as I sat down. "I'm not sure if I should go through with it."

"Why?" my mum asked immediately. "Is there another woman? Or is she cheating on you?"

"No, it's nothing like that." I wondered if I could get through this explanation without my mum voicing about fifty theories. "I just don't know if we're…._right_."

This was hard. I hated expressing my emotions.

"She's amazing and everything, and nothing I feel for her has changed, but it just seems like I hardly know her." No, that wasn't right. I'd known her for years. "Well, I know her, but….I don't know."

Strangely, my mum had a look of understanding on her face—a good thing, because even I didn't understand what I'd just said.

"I have an idea for you," she said. "Harold and I did this before our wedding. Tomorrow it'll be five days until the wedding. Meet her every day somewhere, and exchange facts about yourselves. Then, you take her to the movies, or the beach, or something like that. It'll be just like you're dating again!"

"Mum, we _are_ dating. We didn't stop just because we got engaged."

"Oh, well, you know what I mean."

We paused for a moment or two, and I considered her idea. It was simple, fun, and sounded like it might work. I clung to it like a dying man to a life raft.

I stood up and kissed my mother. "Thanks for the idea, and the cookies smell great. I'm sorry I can't stay, I have to go pick out my tux in half an hour."

They had said to come "whenever", but I didn't want to spend the rest of the day as a raven-haired Pillsbury Doughboy.

Not entirely sure what the place (I refused to call it a "boutique") was, I checked the business card. The place was called _Vincent Carson's Tuxedo and Dress Robe Boutique_, and it was on Newt Lane. That wasn't far. I decided to walk.

On the way, I went over some details in my mind. We'd meet at the Parkway Diner to do our little fact exchange. It was about halfway in between our apartments, and neatly situated near a movie theater and other such attractions. The first day, I decided, we would go see _Grease_; it sounded torturous for me, but she would probably enjoy it.

By the time I had ironed out at least the next day's details, I had arrived at the shop. A bell tinkled gently as I opened the door. As soon as I entered, I was enveloped in plush surroundings, and almost gagged on the scent of a probably very expensive perfume that appeared to have been applied to absolutely everything in the vicinity.

I couldn't see any employees wandering around and there wasn't anyone at the desk, so I started to look around at the tux section on the right. As soon as I touched a hanger of an outfit I liked, I heard a female voice behind me.

"Can I help you, sir?" I whipped around. That wasn't just any female voice—that was….

Lily Evans stood behind me. As soon as she saw my face she gasped and dropped the set of dress robes she'd been putting away. I bent down to help her pick them up and saw that she was blushing deeply and looked more uncomfortable than I had ever seen her.

You see, Lily was my ex-girlfriend. I had spent most of my Hogwarts career pursuing her and she had finally gone out with me in our seventh year, but we broke up soon after school. It had been a stupid argument, I didn't even remember what it was about, but she had yelled that she never wanted to see me again, and I had complied. We hadn't met since. Until now.

We both straightened up and stood in awkward silence for at least a lifetime.

"Wow….hi," I said feebly. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm, uh, pretty good," she replied. "So, what's the occasion?"

_Bugger_, I thought. I was hoping this wouldn't come up so soon, or at all for that matter. "I'm….getting married."

"Oh." Her smile became plastered. She looked at the tux I had been checking out. "In that case, that tux is all wrong."

"What's wrong with it?" I wanted to get the subject off my approaching nuptials, but I also sincerely wanted to know. The tux I'd picked out was the only one I had seen that wasn't pink anywhere, had minimal frills, and looked like something I could wear without being ridiculed every time anyone looked at my wedding pictures.

"It's all black, James. Usually, people buy these to put on their dead relatives when they're going in the casket," Lily explained. Her mouth twitched, but she seemed to be determined to avoid my eyes. "This one over here is our most popular wedding tux."

She hid it well, but I noticed the small catch in her voice when she said "wedding". I examined the tux. It wasn't _too_ bad, but the handkerchief was uncompromisingly pink.

"Uh, do you have any other color of hankies?" I asked hopefully.

"I'll see what we have in the back," she replied, and almost ran to the storage room. Something inside me wrenched when it occurred to me that at least one of those hankies was probably being put to a different use than decoration.

In a few minutes, Lily returned, bearing a much better, white handkerchief. It had some lace on the edges, but that could be dealt with. Her nose was slightly red and her eyes were bright, which made me sure that my assumption had been correct.

"Thank you," I said wholeheartedly. I tried to think of something witty to say that would cheer her up. "So you think this tux will make me look less ugly?"

"You know you're not ugly, James," Lily said, fussing with the hankie for a full minute longer than was necessary. She was still avoiding my gaze.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

She met my eyes for a split second, then shook her head. "I'm going off duty in a couple of minutes. I'm bring Eddie over. I hope you find what you're looking for, and good luck in your new life."

"Wait!" I said. She turned around again, and the plastered smile returned to her face. "You're still working now, and I want to talk to you."

I felt guilty for playing the employee-customer card, but I had to do something. I couldn't just let her go off like that.

"Does it involve tuxedoes, or anything else we offer here?" she asked.

"Well….no."

"Then I don't have to talk to you about it." Her face softened. "You have a fiancée. Spend time with her, because you're not going to get anywhere with me."

I watched, stunned, as she walked up to the counter and told Eddie that he should come help me out. There was no need. I followed her out the door. After reaching the sidewalk, I Disapparated. She'd told me to go and see Crysta, and I would. Crysta was just what I needed right now. She wasn't confusing or taciturn or rude, and I was an incredibly lucky man to be marrying her.

One minute after I Apparated, I had succeeded in my goal to forget all about Lily Evans.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here it is, the long-awaited Chapter Two! Also, you should know that the year in this story is 1978, which conveniently is the year in which both **_**Grease**_** and **_**Superman**_** came out! We also get our first real glimpse of Sirius! So I'd better let you start reading!**

**Chapter Two- It's a Bird, It's a Plane, It's Superman!**

_You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd._

_We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud._

_We might be laughing a bit too loud_

_Aw, but that never hurt no one._

-"Only the Good Die Young"

If there is one thing I don't like to admit, it would be that I don't know something. But as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I had to admit it: I had no idea what a movie was like.

I guess it's understandable. There haven't been Muggles, or even Squibs, in my family for at least seven generations. I grew up with the Banshee Brothers and the Floo network, not Disney and theaters. But then, so did Crysta, and I was betting that she was leagues ahead of me in this whole business. She always seemed to be.

For example, what exactly did one wear to the movies? Was it casual, dressy, or could it go either way? I decided to throw on a plain T-shirt with black pants. That looked okay.

I glanced at the clock; eleven forty-two. I had told Crysta I'd meet her at noon, but it never hurt to be early. After a last, fruitless attempt to flatten my hair, I Apparated into an alley behind the diner.

The alley was a tad cramped, but then again, alleys are not generally known for their spaciousness. I squeezed through two trash cans and stumbled out into the bright light that was the market street. Squinting for a moment against the noon sun, I scanned the outside tables, looking for an empty one. As I looked, I saw someone waving at me; apparently Crysta had also decided to be fashionably early.

I made my way through the tables and sat next to my fiancé in the shade of a red-and-white striped umbrella. I compared her outfit to mine; she was wearing a light blue top and a simple white skirt, and her long brown hair was decorated only with a small jeweled clip. (I had bought her that clip; I still didn't know if she'd realized they were actually rhinestones.) All in all, I thought I'd dressed properly. Not that I actually cared.

"Hello," I greeted her with a quick kiss. "So you didn't like my noon idea?"

"I didn't want to be late," she said, then added, "and plus, I just couldn't wait to see you, hon."

"Why are you sucking up? I already proposed," I informed her. She laughed.

"Yes, but you get to pick where we go, and I really don't feel like looking at motorcycles again."

"Okay, first, that was Sirius's idea, not mine," I said in my defense. "And second, I already picked where we're going, and you're going to like it."

"Oh, good," she said, satisfied. "So, are you going first, or should I?"

Right, facts. "You can go."

"Okay, well, I'm terrified of watermelon. When I was eight I almost choked on a seed, and I've avoided them ever since."

I tried not to frown. I had intended this to be more serious, not trivial information. But she could hardly be expected to know that. I couldn't tell her that I wanted big secrets because I wasn't sure whether or not I should marry her.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, then took a deep breath. "Two years ago, Death Eaters came to my house." She gasped sharply. "No one was home, but they burned the place down. We only just finished rebuilding it."

Hopefully that would clue her in to the nature of things she should be telling me.

"That's….wow," she said rather lamely, looking very discomfited. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't say that," I scowled. Crysta looked hurt, and I added to my statement. "It pisses me off when people say they're sorry for things they didn't do."

"Oh."

I knew she didn't understand, but I wasn't going to press it. We sat in silence for a minute or so before a soft "You've _got_ to be kidding me" alerted us to the presence of our waitress, who was wearing a nametag that said LILY. Lily was our server. Go figure.

"Hi, Lily," I said bravely. She was apparently not happy to see me. "I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to lose touch with _where I come from_"—I understood this to mean the Muggle world—"and the tux and robes place doesn't quite pay all the bills. So here I am," Lily concluded. "Our specials today are the meatball sandwich and chicken corn chowder. Can I start you off with a drink first?"

* * *

About an hour later, Crysta and I were walking toward the movie theatre. I'd told her that we were going to see _Grease_ shortly after we set out, and the idea was a hit, as I knew it would be.

Having Lily as our waitress was deeply awkward, but at least it seemed to be that way for her too, and she stayed away from our table whenever possible. I got a meatball sandwich, and Crysta got a salad. It was a pretty good lunch.

When we arrived at the theatre, I saw a large poster for _Grease_ plastered to one of the windows. Featured was a young man about my age, who seemed to be fixing his hair in quite a conceited fashion, was wearing quite a spiffy leather jacket, and had a girl clinging to him. _Poor fellow_, I thought sympathetically. Not because of the leather jacket, which really was very nice and I suspected Sirius of having one just like it. No, I pitied him because of the evidently very clingy girl he was with—Sirius had had his fair share of those as well, and they were incredibly irritating.

Speaking of Sirius, I immediately felt a hand thump me on the back, almost knocking me over.

"Prongsie!" he exclaimed loudly enough for many people milling about the theatre's doors to turn and give him strange looks. "And you brought the woman-folk." He bowed pompously to Crysta, who looked up at me as if unsure of what she was supposed to do.

As entrances go, this was fairly typical for Sirius Black. Boisterous and excitable, he was always great fun for those who understood him, but for people unused to his oddities, he could be confusing and more than a little terrifying. He was a strong believer in the maxim "If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit," and therefore was not exactly a model student. When he learned that I had made Head Boy, he didn't speak to me for a week.

But that was in the past. In the present, he was turning to me and asking, "So, what brings you to this Muggle-infested Mecca of movies?"

"Well, I was going to take Crysta to _Grease_," I admitted reluctantly. I was sure he would mock me for my choice in film, and I was not disappointed. My statement was greeted with an exaggerated grimace from Sirius.

"You're not serious, are you?" he asked. "I saw that with Carolyn, or was it Catherine?" he asked himself, frowning slightly before waving a hand and continuing in his previous train of thought. "It was a _drag_, mate! Everyone was dancing and singing the whole bloody time! I thought I was going to be sick!"

"So you're coming to see it again?" I asked shrewdly.

"Hardly, Prongs," Sirius returned, looking affronted and drawing himself up to his full, shorter-than-me height. "_I_ am going to see _Superman_. Now _that's_ a movie! A superhero saving the world….You coming, Prongs?"

I looked down at Crysta, who shrugged with a bit of a defeated look in her eye. "Do whatever you want, honey," she told me, squeezing my hand.

I walked up to the ticket booth and ordered three tickets to _Superman_.

* * *

"That was AWESOME!" Sirius cried as we exited the dark room where we'd watched the movie. "Did you _see_ that earthquake?"

"Yeah!" I joined in. "I'm not going to lie; I was bloody impressed by that Superman! How could he do all that without magic?"

Sirius and I eagerly discussed the film for several minutes, and he invited me to go to Icarus Fortescue's for ice cream, and I readily acceded. That was when I noticed that Crysta hadn't said anything the entire time.

"Are you coming, love?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I think I'll stay and see _Grease_ after all," she said. "Plus, with eating out for lunch every day this week, if I got ice cream too I won't fit into my wedding dress," she quipped.

"All right," I said, handing her some Muggle money for the show. "Have fun," I told her, giving her a quick kiss before walking into the bright sunlight with Sirius.

I spent about two hours with Sirius that afternoon, and it was like tonic for my soul. We joked around and acted like kids again, something I hadn't been able to do for a long time. Crysta was not the type of person around whom one is inclined to act like a kid. And when Sirius dumped his ice cream cone on my head? Well, it was all part of the fun! That didn't stop me from chasing him around the shop while threatening to hex him, though.

* * *

I left for my flat at about five o'clock, leaving Sirius, who said he would do likewise after he finished his third ice cream. However, he didn't get back to his flat as soon as he anticipated. This was because as soon as he finished, a figure stepped from the early evening shadows nearby.

"I need your help, Sirius," she said.

**A/N: Relatively short chapter, but there's nothing like a cliffhanger! Sorry about that, folks. Also, there is significance in the whole **_**Grease**_**—**_**Superman**_** thing, although probably no one but myself will get it.**

**Hey! If any of you are familiar with **_**The Music Man**_**, check out my spoof! It's called **_**The Slushee Man**_**, and is actually the only **_**Music Man**_** fic that's written in English….as you can tell, that section doesn't get too much attention. So what do I do but put a commercial of sorts in one of my other fics?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: All right, I've got an Author's Note of epic proportions for you guys, sot sit tight.**

**Now, for the part of the show when the author apologizes: I. AM. SO. SO. SORRY. I have not updated since July 9 of LAST YEAR. That is completely unacceptable, and I apologize to you for that. I just couldn't muster up the will to write for months, and my hectic school schedule didn't help with that. But that's no excuse; I know there are plenty of authors with busier lives than mine who still manage to update regularly, and I am truly ashamed that it took me this long to sit down and write a chapter. I offer you all e-cookies in an effort to reconcile, although I know that they can hardly make up for it. (Also, the undersides are a bit burnt, but it just adds flavour, I promise!)**

**Now, for the really tough part: I don't know when I'll be able to update next. I managed to get through the guilt during the school year by telling myself that I'll be able to write a lot during the summer….but I'm doubting how realistic that is. My AP courses gave me a ton of summer work, and if you combine that with vacation and camp, I don't know how much time I'll have. But I promise to try to update regularly.**

**Once again, I apologize. I'd totally understand if you wanted to burn me at the stake (first time I typed that, I wrote "steak". Whoops. :D ) in the reviews, but I really would prefer it if you didn't, since I cannot yet perform a Flame-Freezing Charm.**

**Oh, and one more thing—I said this on my profile in my description of this story, but I just realized that I forgot to say it here (stupid me): This fic is part-tribute to Billy Joel. If you hadn't noticed, all the beginning lyrics are from songs by him, and the name "the Parkway Diner" comes from the song "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant". Also, I'm **_**kiiiiiinda**_** basing James and Crysta's relationship off of Brenda and Eddie in that same song, and also "Crysta" comes from Christie Brinkley, Billy Joel's ex-wife. Which I suppose makes James Billy Joel. Huh.**

**Well, I suppose I've take up enough of your time. I'm sorry! Get reading! I'm SORRY!**

**Chapter Three—In Which Two of Our Favorite Marauders Have a Heart-To-Heart**

_I've been searching for something_

_Taken out of my soul._

_Something I'd never lose,_

_Something somebody stole._

—"River of Dreams"

Let it never be said that I didn't learn anything at Hogwarts.

I mean, sure, school was never really my goblet of pumpkin juice, so to speak, but I learned a lot from the place—just probably not what the teachers would've liked me to. Take for instance my finely-honed slacking skills. If you look for someone who can put off writing an essay until the period before it's due, you'll find me….along with Sirius trying to copy it over my shoulder and Remus breathing down my neck, threatening me with professors. You might think this _skill _would be a hardship later on in life, when I have to pave my own way and the punishment for late work is getting fired, not detention, blah, blah, _blah._ I'm telling you, my slacking has served me well thus far. Speaking of which, that's actually what I'm doing at the moment. Although it's really more of half-slacking: I'm putting off doing my work so I can work on wedding plans. Which I was still doing four days before the wedding itself because of the aforementioned slacking. So I guess it's technically all-out slacking. I smiled. I was _born _to procrastinate.

Footsteps sounded from the hallway, and I hurriedly pulled the Death Eater profile I was supposed to be compiling onto my desk and began to write busily on it.

The door opened, and I looked up—it was Sirius. I relaxed and smiled at my best mate, but his expression was stony.

"James, we have to talk," he said seriously.

"What's happened?" I asked, concerned. "Is everyone all right?"

"In a sense," Sirius said shortly. "I saw Lily yesterday."

Of course he did. She was becoming downright unavoidable lately. "And?"

"She still loves you, and I think you know you still love her," Sirius said bluntly. He took a deep breath. "I know, you think you love Crysta. But this is _Lily_. How many times did you tell me that you wouldn't give up on her, because she was the only one for you? The whole time you two dated, I don't think I ever saw you frown. How could you love someone that much, and then just suddenly stop?"

I hoped my face looked blank. Blank was better than confused, startled, and angry.

Sirius continued on. "She came up to me after you left last night. Do you know how weird that was for me—_Lily _coming to me for advice about _you_?" He let out a short, humorless laugh. "Look, consider it. I think you'll find that your feelings for her haven't changed, because I sure as hell can't understand how they could have."

I slammed my fist on my desk. I was through listening to this. "But they _have_, Sirius. Giving up on Lily was the best thing I've ever done! When did she ever cause me anything but heartache?" He was ready to interrupt me there, but I pushed on. "I mean, yeah, it was great while we were dating, but when we broke up, she said she never wanted to see me again. She would never have felt for me what I did for her. And I'm glad I'm over her. It wasn't easy, but it's done, and it was done for the best. Now _if_ you'll excuse me, I have a _wedding_ to plan."

I looked down and began scribbling on the parchment in front of me with so much fury that the tip ripped the paper. After a moment, Sirius muttered viciously, "I hope you know you're making the biggest mistake of your life." And then he was gone.

I let the quill fall from my fingers and leaned back in my chair. A part of me was still angry at Sirius, but mostly I regretted yelling like that. Sirius and I had never had a major row like that before. Sure, we'd had arguments, but we usually made up right away. We were like brothers. This shouldn't have happened.

What with thoughts of that nature, it was some time before I came to reflect on the crux of the matter: Lily was still in love with me. I had to admit that it wasn't wholly unexpected. The way she looked at me at our last meeting….her reaction to finding out I was engaged….yes, it all fit. Except for the itty-bitty detail of our screaming match last year. There was no love on her face then, let me tell you that right now. Hate, yes. Anger, also yes. Soy sauce from the Chinese food we'd just had, yes. But love was nowhere to be found.

_Well_, I decided, _if Lily fell in love with me again, she's just too late. _She left behind a wound, of course, but Crysta had healed it, eased the pain little by little until there was only a hint of a scar that remained.

_Wow. I just compared my fiancée to a Band-Aid, _I thought wryly. _I just hope she's not the kind with the cartoon animals on it. That would just be_ embarrassing_._

Eleven fifty-five that morning found me retracing my steps from the day before, down the alleyway and to the Parkway Diner. I crossed my fingers and hoped against hope that Lily wasn't working today.

I might as well not have bothered, with my luck. Of course she was there. Since Crysta wasn't there yet, I picked a table on the opposite side of the restaurant from where we'd been the day before. I don't know why, really, maybe it was just a childish belief that if we were at a different table, she wouldn't know where to find us. As if she wanted to. Like I said, it was childish, but I did it anyway.

A waitress who thankfully was _not_ Lily came up to my table, and I ordered a root beer for myself and spring water—with a lemon slice!—for Crysta. (She was very particular about that kind of thing.)

I glanced at my watch; it was a few minutes after noon. I frowned. Crysta was late, and that wasn't like her. Ordinarily she made a huge deal about punctuality. If nothing happened to her, it would be a great opportunity for teasing her—something I didn't often find—but with the war….suffice it to say that I was worried.

I was just calming myself down by telling myself that she'd done nothing to provoke the interest of the Death Eaters when I saw her walking at a quick pace—but not running, _never_ running—up to the table.

"I'm so sorry I was late, there was a bit of an emergency at the clinic and I couldn't get away," she said almost breathlessly. Crysta had started working part-time at a veterinary clinic recently. Before that, she had just lived off her pureblood wealth. I could never do that; the inactivity would drive me mad.

I assured her that it was fine, and she proceeded to tell me about what had happened. Apparently a puppy was hit by a motorcycle on the road right across from the clinic, but they got it inside and were able to save its life.

"It was a bit hectic for a while; everyone had to help out. They wouldn't let me leave, even though I go off-duty at eleven forty-five," Crysta told me with a slight pout. So she would rather be on time to lunch than help save an injured puppy. Interesting. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be flattered or horrified, so I just nodded and said nothing.

Behind Crysta, I saw Lily talking and laughing with a man as she took his order. He said something to her that made her blush and giggle. My eyes narrowed.

"Honey? Is something wrong?" Crysta asked. I snapped back to reality. Lily wasn't my concern anymore.

"No," I said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Everything is just fine."

It was true. But that didn't explain why it felt so much like a lie.

I actually didn't have a date planned for that day. What can I say; I'm not much for plans. I figured I'd just wing it and it would turn out all right, as things generally do for me. Of course, recently that hasn't been 100% true, but that's beside the point.

I decided to take her to the first place I thought of: the beach. Now I know what you're probably thinking: _What, are you stupid or something? Neither of you brought bathing suits!_

This is true. What is also true is that we are both Hogwarts graduates, and I happened to get the highest score on our Transfiguration NEWT—take _that_, Lily Evans!—so clothes to bathing suits was not a difficult switch. I waited patiently as Crysta carefully tucked her engagement ring into the toe of her shoe so she didn't lose it in the water.

I took her hand and together we leaped into the waves.

The minute I arrived back at my flat I flung myself onto the couch in sheer exhaustion. It had been quite a day.

As it happened, there was a place that rented Jet Skis at this beach. I wanted to ride one with Crysta, but she flat-out refused. Apparently she didn't trust the Muggle contraption with her life, but she allowed me to go by myself while she watched.

I guess it wasn't much of a date, but she didn't complain, and after all, I _was _taking her out five days in a row. I deserved a little "me time".

There was a part of me—that deep, philosophical, _annoying_ part of me that I usually never listen to—that wondered if today was just a foreshadowing of what our lives would be like together. Me doing the actual living and working while she sat on the sidelines and let it happen. I needed someone who would be there for me in thick and thin, to take the troubles with the good times and actively participate in whatever needed to be done, and if what this part of me was saying was true, then Crysta wasn't that person.

But then again, this was the same part of me that wonders if penguins have knees, so I decided not to judge her by that.

**A/N: Yes, again. Just thought I'd let you guys know that it felt **_**really good**_** to write again. I really care about this story, and I'll finish it, I promise, no matter HOW long it takes!**

**(Also…..yeah, I don't know when Jet Skis were invented. Say it's AU. Cut me some slack.)**

**Now….leave a review! It's your only chance to tell me what a horrible, despicable excuse for a writer I am! (Or to tell me you like the story. That would be much appreciated, and would probably make me write words faster….*cough*)**


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